Spring has sprung

 Bringing with it new beginnings...

 

What does spring mean to you? I ask because it means so many different things to different people. For me, the first association that pops up is ‘spring cleaning’, as in getting the house spruced up after the months spent hibernating in winter. So, curtains are washed and hung up, lightweight durries are put in place of heavy-duty carpets, razais are packed away and cool dohars placed on the bed, radiators are put in storage while the ACs are serviced, and so on. 

 

In Calcutta, where I grew up, spring was always heralded by Basant Panchami, or what we called Saraswati Puja. That was a big occasion in my house, with a new idol of the Goddess of Learning being placed in the puja room. The kids in the house would be asked to place our school textbooks at the feet of Saraswati so that she could shower her blessings on them – and by extension, on us. I especially looked forward to this festival because that was one day we were expressly forbidden to study and I could spend the entire day reading my Enid Blytons instead. We would all dress up in yellow to celebrate the new season and gorge on the prasad my mother made. This was also the first day we were allowed to eat ber, because the belief was that you had to feed Ma Saraswati first before being allowed to eat the fruit yourself.

 

After I moved to Delhi, spring took on completely different associations. Now, the season became synonymous with the spring flowers that begin blooming all across the capital as the weather becomes warmer. The traffic roundabouts turn into a veritable riot of colours, the parks are ablaze with flowering trees like tesu and annuals like salvia, hollyhock, lilies, dahlias and the like, and there is never a better time to go for a drive or a walk. This year, the star of the spring season in Delhi has been the tulip, flowering in profusion everywhere from Chanakyapuri to Lodi Garden, and brightening the days of everyone who lays eyes on its beauty.

 

For me, the best part of this season is that I no longer have to layer up before I go for a walk. Instead of huddling under a thermal vest, a sweater and a jacket, I can make do with a light shawl, as I bask in the balmy spring sunshine. And as the days grow longer, it is possible to linger in the park for much longer; which is exactly what I do, buying myself a packet of popcorn and settling down on a bench to read my book, making the most of the residual coolness before the advent of summer scorches us all. 

 

More than anything else, spring is supposed to be the season of renewal. So, in that spirit, this is when my winter feet are exposed to the rigors of a pedicure after months spent encased in boots. Then, it’s time to shop for the cotton/linen kurtas and shirts in which I will spend the entire summer. And yes, this is also when my thoughts turn inevitably to my summer holiday – but that, as they say, is a story for another time.

 

Bloom time

We are finally taking the time to smell the roses…

 

The last time I visited Japan was seven years ago. Watching the Sakura (cherry blossoms) bloom had long been on my bucket list. And in 2016 I was lucky enough to arrive in Tokyo on the very day when those amazing white and pink flowers bloomed across the city. I spent the next week doing what the Japanese call ‘Hanami’, which basically means sitting quietly and taking in the beauty of the flowering Sakura. In this I was joined by what seemed like all of Tokyo, Sakura-watching being a national pastime during the fortnight when the flowers are in situ.

 

I remember coming back to India and writing a column bemoaning the fact that while we have plenty of flowering trees in India – amaltas, saptaparani, tesu, palash, to name just a few – which are just as pretty, we didn’t seem to make much of them. We didn’t take time off to sit in parks or simply by the side of the road to admire their beauty.

 

Last week, I was fortunate enough to visit Tokyo again during the Sakura season. And as I travelled from park to park, feasting my eyes on that miraculous burst of colour that is the flowering cherry blossom, I was struck by a sudden realization. I don’t quite know when it happened, or what brought it about, but in the last few years, we in India have begun to celebrate our own flowering trees and spring blooms with a similar enthusiasm that the Japanese show for Sakura.

 

I see it all the time during my walks in the sundry Delhi parks I haunt during the spring. I am surrounded by people, both young and old, who are more interested in taking pictures of the flowering plants – petunias, salvia, pansies, hollyhocks, roses – than in getting their 10,000 steps in. The tulips in Lodi Garden this spring, for instance, were an Instagram staple, with hundreds of posts dedicated to their beauty.

 

And it’s not just spring flowers that are getting eyeballs. Flowering trees are becoming as much of a crowd pleaser. The bright red flowers of the tesu, which are a harbinger of Holi, bring a spot of colour to my social media feed, as does the palash tree, which blooms soon after.

 

During the peak of summer, when the amaltas begins to show off its golden hues, everyone goes a bit mad posting those yellow-streaked trees as they shimmer in the strong sunshine and brighten up every city street. The Pujas are heralded by the flowering of the shiuli tree. But while earlier, it was just the Bengalis among us who would celebrate its arrival, now those delicate white and orange flowers have fans from almost every community.

 

In my house, it is the saptaparani tree outside the balcony that signals the arrival of winter to me. The moment the temperature drops, the tree starts to sprout tiny white flowers which give forth the most heavenly fragrance. But it’s not just me that is taking in that perfume, the rest of the world is just as enthused by it.

 

So, what accounts for our new-found passion for flowering trees and blooms? Is it just another way of brightening up our social media feeds? Or are we finally becoming sensitized to and appreciative of our environment. Or is it a bit of both? 

  

Whatever the reason may be, I am very happy that we are finally stopping to smell the roses.